The Essays of Michel de Montaigne, by Michel de Montaigne

Chapter 6

Of Coaches

It is very easy to verify, that great authors, when they write of causes, not only make use of those
they think to be the true causes, but also of those they believe not to be so, provided they have in them some beauty
and invention: they speak true and usefully enough, if it be ingeniously. We cannot make ourselves sure of the supreme
cause, and therefore crowd a great many together, to see if it may not accidentally be amongst them:

Do you ask me, whence comes the custom of blessing those who sneeze? We break wind three several ways; that which
sallies from below is too filthy; that which breaks out from the mouth carries with it some reproach of gluttony; the
third is sneezing, which, because it proceeds from the head and is without offence, we give it this civil reception: do
not laugh at this distinction; they say ’tis Aristotle’s.

I think I have seen in Plutarch’ (who of all the authors I know, is he who has best mixed art with nature, and
judgment with knowledge), his giving as a reason for the, rising of the stomach in those who are at sea, that it is
occasioned by fear; having first found out some reason by which he proves that fear may produce such an effect. I, who
am very subject to it, know well that this cause concerns not me; and I know it, not by argument, but by necessary
experience. Without instancing what has been told me, that the same thing often happens in beasts, especially hogs, who
are out of all apprehension of danger; and what an acquaintance of mine told me of himself, that though very subject to
it, the disposition to vomit has three or four times gone off him, being very afraid in a violent storm, as it happened
to that ancient:

I was never afraid upon the water, nor indeed in any other peril (and I have had enough before my eyes that would
have sufficed, if death be one), so as to be astounded to lose my judgment. Fear springs sometimes as much from want of
judgment as from want of courage. All the dangers I have been in I have looked upon without winking, with an open,
sound, and entire sight; and, indeed, a man must have courage to fear. It formerly served me better than other help, so
to order and regulate my retreat, that it was, if not without fear, nevertheless without affright and astonishment; it
was agitated, indeed, but not amazed or stupefied. Great souls go yet much farther, and present to us flights, not only
steady and temperate, but moreover lofty. Let us make a relation of that which Alcibiades reports of Socrates, his
fellow in arms: “I found him,” says he, “after the rout of our army, him and Lachez, last among those who fled, and
considered him at my leisure and in security, for I was mounted on a good horse, and he on foot, as he had fought. I
took notice, in the first place, how much judgment and resolution he showed, in comparison of Lachez, and then the
bravery of his march, nothing different from his ordinary gait; his sight firm and regular, considering and judging
what passed about him, looking one while upon those, and then upon others, friends and enemies, after such a manner as
encouraged those, and signified to the others that he would sell his life dear to any one who should attempt to take it
from him, and so they came off; for people are not willing to attack such kind of men, but pursue those they see are in
a fright.” That is the testimony of this great captain, which teaches us, what we every day experience, that nothing so
much throws us into dangers as an inconsiderate eagerness of getting ourselves clear of them:

Our people are to blame who say that such an one is afraid of death, when they would express that he thinks of it
and foresees it: foresight is equally convenient in what concerns us, whether good or ill. To consider and judge of
danger is, in some sort, the reverse to being astounded. I do not find myself strong enough to sustain the force and
impetuosity of this passion of fear, nor of any other vehement passion whatever: if I was once conquered and beaten
down by it, I should never rise again very sound. Whoever should once make my soul lose her footing, would never set
her upright again: she retastes and researches herself too profoundly, and too much to the quick, and therefore would
never let the wound she had received heal and cicatrise. It has been well for me that no sickness has yet discomposed
her: at every charge made upon me, I preserve my utmost opposition and defence; by which means the first that should
rout me would keep me from ever rallying again. I have no after-game to play: on which side soever the inundation
breaks my banks, I lie open, and am drowned without remedy. Epicurus says, that a wise man can never become a fool; I
have an opinion reverse to this sentence, which is, that he who has once been a very fool, will never after be very
wise. God grants me cold according to my cloth, and passions proportionable to the means I have to withstand them:
nature having laid me open on the one side, has covered me on the other; having disarmed me of strength, she has armed
me with insensibility and an apprehension that is regular, or, if you will, dull.

I cannot now long endure (and when I was young could much less) either coach, litter, or boat, and hate all other
riding but on horseback, both in town and country. But I can bear a litter worse than a coach; and, by the same reason,
a rough agitation upon the water, whence fear is produced, better than the motions of a calm. At the little jerks of
oars, stealing the vessel from under us, I find, I know not how, both my head and my stomach disordered; neither-can I
endure to sit upon a tottering chair. When the sail or the current carries us equally, or that we are towed, the equal
agitation does not disturb me at all; ’tis an interrupted motion that offends me, and most of all when most slow: I
cannot otherwise express it. The physicians have ordered me to squeeze and gird myself about the bottom of the belly
with a napkin to remedy this evil; which however I have not tried, being accustomed to wrestle with my own defects, and
overcome them myself.

Would my memory serve me, I should not think my time ill spent in setting down here the infinite variety that
history presents us of the use of chariots in the service of war: various, according to the nations and according to
the age; in my opinion, of great necessity and effect; so that it is a wonder that we have lost all knowledge of them.
I will only say this, that very lately, in our fathers’ time, the Hungarians made very advantageous use of them against
the Turks; having in every one of them a targetter and a musketeer, and a number of harquebuses piled ready and loaded,
and all covered with a pavesade like a galliot 4 They
formed the front of their battle with three thousand such coaches, and after the cannon had played, made them all pour
in their shot upon the enemy, who had to swallow that volley before they tasted of the rest, which was no little
advance; and that done, these chariots charged into their squadrons to break them and open a way for the rest; besides
the use they might make of them to flank the soldiers in a place of danger when marching to the field, or to cover a
post, and fortify it in haste. In my time, a gentleman on one of our frontiers, unwieldy of body, and finding no horse
able to carry his weight, having a quarrel, rode through the country in a chariot of this fashion, and found great
convenience in it. But let us leave these chariots of war.

As if their effeminacy 5 had not been sufficiently known
by better proofs, the last kings of our first race travelled in a chariot drawn by four oxen. Marc Antony was the first
at Rome who caused himself to be drawn in a coach by lions, and a singing wench with him.6

Heliogabalus did since as much, calling himself Cybele, the mother of the gods; and also drawn by tigers, taking
upon him the person of the god Bacchus; he also sometimes harnessed two stags to his coach, another time four dogs, and
another four naked wenches, causing himself to be drawn by them in pomp, stark naked too. The Emperor Firmus caused his
chariot to be drawn by ostriches of a prodigious size, so that it seemed rather to fly than roll.

The strangeness of these inventions puts this other fancy in my head: that it is a kind of pusillanimity in
monarchs, and a testimony that they do not sufficiently understand themselves what they are, when they study to make
themselves honoured and to appear great by excessive expense: it were indeed excusable in a foreign country, but
amongst their own subjects, where they are in sovereign command, and may do what they please, it derogates from their
dignity the most supreme degree of honour to which they can arrive: just as, methinks, it is superfluous in a private
gentleman to go finely dressed at home; his house, his attendants, and his kitchen sufficiently answer for him. The
advice that Isocrates gives his king seems to be grounded upon reason: that he should be splendid in plate and
furniture; forasmuch as it is an expense of duration that devolves on his successors; and that he should avoid all
magnificences that will in a short time be forgotten. I loved to go fine when I was a younger brother, for want of
other ornament; and it became me well: there are some upon whom their rich clothes weep: We have strange stories of the
frugality of our kings about their own persons and in their gifts: kings who were great in reputation, valour, and
fortune. Demosthenes vehemently opposes the law of his city that assigned the public money for the pomp of their public
plays and festivals: he would that their greatness should be seen in numbers of ships well equipped, and good armies
well provided for; and there is good reason to condemn Theophrastus, who, in his Book on Riches, establishes a contrary
opinion, and maintains that sort of expense to be the true fruit of abundance. They are delights, says Aristotle, that
a only please the baser sort of the people, and that vanish from the memory as soon as the people are sated with them,
and for which no serious and judicious man can have any esteem. This money would, in my opinion, be much more royally,
as more profitably, justly, and durably, laid out in ports, havens, walls, and fortifications; in sumptuous buildings,
churches, hospitals, colleges, the reforming of streets and highways: wherein Pope Gregory XIII. will leave a laudable
memory to future times: and wherein our Queen Catherine would to long posterity manifest her natural liberality and
munificence, did her means supply her affection. Fortune has done me a great despite in interrupting the noble
structure of the Pont–Neuf of our great city, and depriving me of the hope of seeing it finished before I die.

Moreover, it seems to subjects, who are spectators of these triumphs, that their own riches are exposed before them,
and that they are entertained at their own expense: for the people are apt to presume of kings, as we do of our
servants, that they are to take care to provide us all things necessary in abundance, but not touch it themselves; and
therefore the Emperor Galba, being pleased with a musician who played to him at supper, called for his money-box, and
gave him a handful of crowns that he took out of it, with these words: “This is not the public money, but my own.” Yet
it so falls out that the people, for the most part, have reason on their side, and that the princes feed their eyes
with what they have need of to fill their bellies.

Liberality itself is not in its true lustre in a sovereign hand: private men have therein the most right; for, to
take it exactly, a king has nothing properly his own; he owes himself to others: authority is not given in favour of
the magistrate, but of the people; a superior is never made so for his own profit, but for the profit of the inferior,
and a physician for the sick person, and not for himself: all magistracy, as well as all art, has its end out of itself
wherefore the tutors of young princes, who make it their business to imprint in them this virtue of liberality, and
preach to them to deny nothing and to think nothing so well spent as what they give (a doctrine that I have known in
great credit in my time), either have more particular regard to their own profit than to that of their master, or ill
understand to whom they speak. It is too easy a thing to inculcate liberality on him who has as much as he will to
practise it with at the expense of others; and, the estimate not being proportioned to the measure of the gift but to
the measure of the means of him who gives it, it comes to nothing in so mighty hands; they find themselves prodigal
before they can be reputed liberal. And it is but a little recommendation, in comparison with other royal virtues: and
the only one, as the tyrant Dionysius said, that suits well with tyranny itself. I should rather teach him this verse
of the ancient labourer:

he must scatter it abroad, and not lay it on a heap in one place: and that, seeing he is to give, or, to say better,
to pay and restore to so many people according as they have deserved, he ought to be a loyal and discreet disposer. If
the liberality of a prince be without measure or discretion, I had rather he were covetous.

Royal virtue seems most to consist in justice; and of all the parts of justice that best denotes a king which
accompanies liberality, for this they have particularly reserved to be performed by themselves, whereas all other sorts
of justice they remit to the administration of others. An immoderate bounty is a very weak means to acquire for them
good will; it checks more people than it allures:

and if it be conferred without due respect of merit, it puts him out of countenance who receives it, and is received
ungraciously. Tyrants have been sacrificed to the hatred of the people by the hands of those very men they have
unjustly advanced; such kind of men as buffoons, panders, fiddlers, and such ragamuffins, thinking to assure to
themselves the possession of benefits unduly received, if they manifest to have him in hatred and disdain of whom they
hold them, and in this associate themselves to the common judgment and opinion.

The subjects of a prince excessive in gifts grow excessive in asking, and regulate their demands, not by reason, but
by example. We have, seriously, very often reason to blush at our own impudence: we are over-paid, according to
justice, when the recompense equals our service; for do we owe nothing of natural obligation to our princes? If he bear
our charges, he does too much; ’tis enough that he contribute to them: the overplus is called benefit, which cannot be
exacted: for the very name Liberality sounds of Liberty.

In our fashion it is never done; we never reckon what we have received; we are only for the future liberality;
wherefore, the more a prince exhausts himself in giving, the poorer he grows in friends. How should he satisfy
immoderate desires, that still increase as they are fulfilled? He who has his thoughts upon taking, never thinks of
what he has taken; covetousness has nothing so properly and so much its own as ingratitude.

The example of Cyrus will not do amiss in this place, to serve the kings of these times for a touchstone to know
whether their gifts are well or ill bestowed, and to see how much better that emperor conferred them than they do, by
which means they are reduced to borrow of unknown subjects, and rather of them whom they have wronged than of them on
whom they have conferred their benefits, and so receive aids wherein there is nothing of gratuitous but the name.
Croesus reproached him with his bounty, and cast up to how much his treasure would amount if he had been a little
closer-handed. He had a mind to justify his liberality, and therefore sent despatches into all parts to the grandees of
his dominions whom he had particularly advanced, entreating every one of them to supply him with as much money as they
could, for a pressing occasion, and to send him particulars of what each could advance. When all these answers were
brought to him, every one of his friends, not thinking it enough barely to offer him so much as he had received from
his bounty, and adding to it a great deal of his own, it appeared that the sum amounted to a great deal more than
Croesus’ reckoning. Whereupon Cyrus: “I am not,” said he, “less in love with riches than other princes, but rather a
better husband; you see with how small a venture I have acquired the inestimable treasure of so many friends, and how
much more faithful treasurers they are to me than mercenary men without obligation, without affection; and my money
better laid up than in chests, bringing upon me the hatred, envy, and contempt of other princes.”

The emperors excused the superfluity of their plays and public spectacles by reason that their authority in some
sort (at least in outward appearance) depended upon the will of the people of Rome, who, time out of mind, had been
accustomed to be entertained and caressed with such shows and excesses. But they were private citizens, who had
nourished this custom to gratify their fellow-citizens and companions (and chiefly out of their own purses) by such
profusion and magnificence it had quite another taste when the masters came to imitate it:

Philip, seeing that his son went about by presents to gain the affection of the Macedonians, reprimanded him in a
letter after this manner: “What! hast thou a mind that thy subjects shall look upon thee as their cash-keeper and not
as their king? Wilt thou tamper with them to win their affections? Do it, then, by the benefits of thy virtue, and not
by those of thy chest.” And yet it was, doubtless, a fine thing to bring and plant within the amphitheatre a great
number of vast trees, with all their branches in their full verdure, representing a great shady forest, disposed in
excellent order; and, the first day, to throw into it a thousand ostriches and a thousand stags, a thousand boars, and
a thousand fallow-deer, to be killed and disposed of by the people: the next day, to cause a hundred great lions, a
hundred leopards, and three hundred bears to be killed in his presence; and for the third day, to make three hundred
pair of gladiators fight it out to the last, as the Emperor Probus did. It was also very fine to see those vast
amphitheatres, all faced with marble without, curiously wrought with figures and statues, and within glittering with
rare enrichments:

where a hundred thousand men might sit at their ease: and, the place below, where the games were played, to make it,
by art, first open and cleave in chasms, representing caves that vomited out the beasts designed for the spectacle; and
then, secondly, to be overflowed by a deep sea, full of sea monsters, and laden with ships of war, to represent a naval
battle; and, thirdly, to make it dry and even again for the combat of the gladiators; and, for the fourth scene, to
have it strown with vermilion grain and storax, 12
instead of sand, there to make a solemn feast for all that infinite number of people: the last act of one only day:

Sometimes they made a high mountain advance itself, covered with fruit-trees and other leafy trees, sending down
rivulets of water from the top, as from the mouth of a fountain: otherwhiles, a great ship was seen to come rolling in,
which opened and divided of itself, and after having disgorged from the hold four or five hundred beasts for fight,
closed again, and vanished without help. At other times, from the floor of this place, they made spouts of perfumed
water dart their streams upward, and so high as to sprinkle all that infinite multitude. To defend themselves from the
injuries of the weather, they had that vast place one while covered over with purple curtains of needlework, and
by-and-by with silk of one or another colour, which they drew off or on in a moment, as they had a mind:

If there be anything excusable in such excesses as these, it is where the novelty and invention create more wonder
than the expense; even in these vanities we discover how fertile those ages were in other kind of wits than these of
ours. It is with this sort of fertility, as with all other products of nature: not that she there and then employed her
utmost force: we do not go; we rather run up and down, and whirl this way and that; we turn back the way we came. I am
afraid our knowledge is weak in all senses; we neither see far forward nor far backward; our understanding comprehends
little, and lives but a little while; ’tis short both in extent of time and extent of matter:

And the narrative of Solon, of what he had learned from the Egyptian priests, touching the long life of their state,
and their manner of learning and preserving foreign histories, is not, methinks, a testimony to be refused in this
consideration:

Though all that has arrived, by report, of our knowledge of times past should be true, and known by some one person,
it would be less than nothing in comparison of what is unknown. And of this same image of the world, which glides away
whilst we live upon it, how wretched and limited is the knowledge of the most curious; not only of particular events,
which fortune often renders exemplary and of great concern, but of the state of great governments and nations, a
hundred more escape us than ever come to our knowledge. We make a mighty business of the invention of artillery and
printing, which other men at the other end of the world, in China, had a thousand years ago. Did we but see as much of
the world as we do not see, we should perceive, we may well believe, a perpetual multiplication and vicissitude of
forms. There is nothing single and rare in respect of nature, but in respect of our knowledge, which is a wretched
foundation whereon to ground our rules, and that represents to us a very false image of things. As we nowadays vainly
conclude the declension and decrepitude of the world, by the arguments we extract from our own weakness and decay:

Our world has lately discovered another (and who will assure us that it is the last of its brothers, since the
Daemons, the Sybils, and we ourselves have been ignorant of this till now?), as large, well-peopled, and fruitful as
this whereon we live and yet so raw and childish, that we are still teaching it it’s a B C: ’tis not above fifty years
since it knew neither letters, weights, measures, vestments, corn, nor vines: it was then quite naked in the mother’s
lap, and only lived upon what she gave it. If we rightly conclude of our end, and this poet of the youthfulness of that
age of his, that other world will only enter into the light when this of ours shall make its exit; the universe will
fall into paralysis; one member will be useless, the other in vigour. I am very much afraid that we have greatly
precipitated its declension and ruin by our contagion; and that we have sold it opinions and our arts at a very dear
rate. It was an infant world, and yet we have not whipped and subjected it to our discipline by the advantage of our
natural worth and force, neither have we won it by our justice and goodness, nor subdued it by our magnanimity. Most of
their answers, and the negotiations we have had with them, witness that they were nothing behind us in pertinency and
clearness of natural understanding. The astonishing magnificence of the cities of Cusco and Mexico, and, amongst many
other things, the garden of the king, where all the trees, fruits, and plants, according to the order and stature they
have in a garden, were excellently formed in gold; as, in his cabinet, were all the animals bred upon his territory and
in its seas; and the beauty of their manufactures, in jewels, feathers, cotton, and painting, gave ample proof that
they were as little inferior to us in industry. But as to what concerns devotion, observance of the laws, goodness,
liberality, loyalty, and plain dealing, it was of use to us that we had not so much as they; for they have lost, sold,
and betrayed themselves by this advantage over us.

As to boldness and courage, stability, constancy against pain, hunger, and death, I should not fear to oppose the
examples I find amongst them to the most famous examples of elder times that we find in our records on this side of the
world. Far as to those who subdued them, take but away the tricks and artifices they practised to gull them, and the
just astonishment it was to those nations to see so sudden and unexpected an arrival of men with beards, differing in
language, religion, shape, and countenance, from so remote a part of the world, and where they had never heard there
was any habitation, mounted upon great unknown monsters, against those who had not only never seen a horse, but had
never seen any other beast trained up to carry a man or any other loading; shelled in a hard and shining skin, with a
cutting and glittering weapon in his hand, against them, who, out of wonder at the brightness of a looking glass or a
knife, would exchange great treasures of gold and pearl; and who had neither knowledge, nor matter with which, at
leisure, they could penetrate our steel: to which may be added the lightning and thunder of our cannon and harquebuses,
enough to frighten Caesar himself, if surprised, with so little experience, against people naked, except where the
invention of a little quilted cotton was in use, without other arms, at the most, than bows, stones, staves, and
bucklers of wood; people surprised under colour of friendship and good faith, by the curiosity of seeing strange and
unknown things; take but away, I say, this disparity from the conquerors, and you take away all the occasion of so many
victories. When I look upon that in vincible ardour wherewith so many thousands of men, women, and children so often
presented and threw themselves into inevitable dangers for the defence of their gods and liberties; that generous
obstinacy to suffer all extremities and difficulties, and death itself, rather than submit to the dominion of those by
whom they had been so shamefully abused; and some of them choosing to die of hunger and fasting, being prisoners,
rather than to accept of nourishment from the hands of their so basely victorious enemies: I see, that whoever would
have attacked them upon equal terms of arms, experience, and number, would have had a hard, and, peradventure, a harder
game to play than in any other war we have seen.

Why did not so noble a conquest fall under Alexander, or the ancient Greeks and Romans; and so great a revolution
and mutation of so many empires and nations, fall into hands that would have gently levelled, rooted up, and made plain
and smooth whatever was rough and savage amongst them, and that would have cherished and propagated the good seeds that
nature had there produced; mixing not only with the culture of land and the ornament of cities, the arts of this part
of the world, in what was necessary, but also the Greek and Roman virtues, with those that were original of the
country? What a reparation had it been to them, and what a general good to the whole world, had our first examples and
deportments in those parts allured those people to the admiration and imitation of virtue, and had begotten betwixt
them and us a fraternal society and intelligence? How easy had it been to have made advantage of souls so innocent, and
so eager to learn, leaving, for the most part, naturally so good inclinations before? Whereas, on the contrary, we have
taken advantage of their ignorance and inexperience, with greater ease to incline them to treachery, luxury, avarice,
and towards all sorts of inhumanity and cruelty, by the pattern and example of our manners. Who ever enhanced the price
of merchandise at such a rate? So many cities levelled with the ground, so many nations exterminated, so many millions
of people fallen by the edge of the sword, and the richest and most beautiful part of the world turned upside down, for
the traffic of pearl and pepper? Mechanic victories! Never did ambition, never did public animosities, engage men
against one another in such miserable hostilities, in such miserable calamities.

Certain Spaniards, coasting the sea in quest of their mines, landed in a fruitful and pleasant and very well peopled
country, and there made to the inhabitants their accustomed professions: “that they were peaceable men, who were come
from a very remote country, and sent on the behalf of the King of Castile, the greatest prince of the habitable world,
to whom the Pope, God’s vicegerent upon earth, had given the principality of all the Indies; that if they would become
tributaries to him, they should be very gently and courteously used”; at the same time requiring of them victuals for
their nourishment, and gold whereof to make some pretended medicine; setting forth, moreover, the belief in one only
God, and the truth of our religion, which they advised them to embrace, whereunto they also added some threats. To
which they received this answer: “That as to their being peaceable, they did not seem to be such, if they were so. As
to their king, since he was fain to beg, he must be necessitous and poor; and he who had made him this gift, must be a
man who loved dissension, to give that to another which was none of his own, to bring it into dispute against the
ancient possessors. As to victuals, they would supply them; that of gold they had little; it being a thing they had in
very small esteem, as of no use to the service of life, whereas their only care was to pass it over happily and
pleasantly: but that what they could find excepting what was employed in the service of their gods, they might freely
take. As to one only God, the proposition had pleased them well; but that they would not change their religion, both
because they had so long and happily lived in it, and that they were not wont to take advice of any but their friends,
and those they knew: as to their menaces, it was a sign of want of judgment to threaten those whose nature and power
were to them unknown; that, therefore, they were to make haste to quit their coast, for they were not used to take the
civilities and professions of armed men and strangers in good part; otherwise they should do by them as they had done
by those others,” showing them the heads of several executed men round the walls of their city. A fair example of the
babble of these children. But so it is, that the Spaniards did not, either in this or in several other places, where
they did not find the merchandise they sought, make any stay or attempt, whatever other conveniences were there to be
had; witness my CANNIBALS. 21

Of the two most puissant monarchs of that world, and, peradventure, of this, kings of so many kings, and the last
they turned out, he of Peru, having been taken in a battle, and put to so excessive a ransom as exceeds all belief, and
it being faithfully paid, and he having, by his conversation, given manifest signs of a frank, liberal, and constant
spirit, and of a clear and settled understanding, the conquerors had a mind, after having exacted one million three
hundred and twenty-five thousand and five hundred weight of gold, besides silver, and other things which amounted to no
less (so that their horses were shod with massy gold), still to see, at the price of what disloyalty and injustice
whatever, what the remainder of the treasures of this king might be, and to possess themselves of that also. To this
end a false accusation was preferred against him, and false witnesses brought to prove that he went about to raise an
insurrection in his provinces, to procure his own liberty; whereupon, by the virtuous sentence of those very men who
had by this treachery conspired his ruin, he was condemned to be publicly hanged and strangled, after having made him
buy off the torment of being burnt alive, by the baptism they gave him immediately before execution; a horrid and
unheard of barbarity, which, nevertheless, he underwent without giving way either in word or look, with a truly grave
and royal behaviour. After which, to calm and appease the people, aroused and astounded at so strange a thing, they
counterfeited great sorrow for his death, and appointed most sumptuous funerals.

The other king of Mexico, 22 having for a long time
defended his beleaguered city, and having in this siege manifested the utmost of what suffering and perseverance can
do, if ever prince and people did, and his misfortune having delivered him alive into his enemies’ hands, upon articles
of being treated like a king, neither did he in his captivity discover anything unworthy of that title. His enemies,
after their victory, not finding so much gold as they expected, when they had searched and rifled with their utmost
diligence, they went about to procure discoveries by the most cruel torments they could invent upon the prisoners they
had taken: but having profited nothing by these, their courage being greater than their torments, they arrived at last
to such a degree of fury, as, contrary to their faith and the law of nations, to condemn the king himself, and one of
the principal noblemen of his court, to the rack, in the presence of one another. This lord, finding himself overcome
with pain, being environed with burning coals, pitifully turned his dying eyes towards his master, as it were to ask
him pardon that he was able to endure no more; whereupon the king, darting at him a fierce and severe look, as
reproaching his cowardice and pusillanimity, with a harsh and constant voice said to him thus only: “And what dost thou
think I suffer? am I in a bath? am I more at ease than thou?” Whereupon the other immediately quailed under the torment
and died upon the spot. The king, half roasted, was carried thence; not so much out of pity (for what compassion ever
touched so barbarous souls, who, upon the doubtful information of some vessel of gold to be made a prey of, caused not
only a man, but a king, so great in fortune and desert, to be broiled before their eyes), but because his constancy
rendered their cruelty still more shameful. They afterwards hanged him for having nobly attempted to deliver himself by
arms from so long a captivity and subjection, and he died with a courage becoming so magnanimous a prince.

Another time, they burnt in the same fire four hundred and sixty men alive at once, the four hundred of the common
people, the sixty the principal lords of a province, simply prisoners of war. We have these narratives from themselves
for they not only own it, but boast of it and publish it. Could it be for a testimony of their justice or their zeal to
religion? Doubtless these are ways too differing and contrary to so holy an end. Had they proposed to themselves to
extend our faith, they would have considered that it does not amplify in the possession of territories, but in the
gaining of men; and would have more than satisfied themselves with the slaughters occasioned by the necessity of war,
without indifferently mixing a massacre, as upon wild beasts, as universal as fire and sword could make it; having
only, by intention, saved so many as they meant to make miserable slaves of, for the work and service of their mines;
so that many of the captains were put to death upon the place of conquest, by order of the kings of Castile, justly
offended with the horror of their deportment, and almost all of them hated and disesteemed. God meritoriously permitted
that all this great plunder should be swallowed up by the sea in transportation, or in the civil wars wherewith they
devoured one another; and most of the men themselves were buried in a foreign land without any fruit of their
victory.

That the revenue from these countries, though in the hands of so parsimonious and so prudent a prince, 23 so little answers the expectation given of it to his predecessors,
and to that original abundance of riches which was found at the first landing in those new discovered countries (for
though a great deal be fetched thence, yet we see ’tis nothing in comparison of that which might be expected), is that
the use of coin was there utterly unknown, and that consequently their gold was found all hoarded together, being of no
other use but for ornament and show, as a furniture reserved from father to son by many puissant kings, who were ever
draining their mines to make this vast heap of vessels and statues for the decoration of their palaces and temples;
whereas our gold is always in motion and traffic; we cut it into a thousand small pieces, and cast it into a thousand
forms, and scatter and disperse it in a thousand ways. But suppose our kings should thus hoard up all the gold they
could get in several ages and let it lie idle by them.

Those of the kingdom of Mexico were in some sort more civilised and more advanced in arts than the other nations
about them. Therefore did they judge, as we do, that the world was near its period, and looked upon the desolation we
brought amongst them as a certain sign of it. They believed that the existence of the world was divided into five ages,
and in the life of five successive suns, of which four had already ended their time, and that this which gave them
light was the fifth. The first perished, with all other creatures, by an universal inundation of water; the second by
the heavens falling upon us and suffocating every living thing to which age they assigned the giants, and showed bones
to the Spaniards, according to the proportion of which the stature of men amounted to twenty feet; the third by fire,
which burned and consumed all; the fourth by an emotion of the air and wind, which came with such violence as to beat
down even many mountains, wherein the men died not, but were turned into baboons. What impressions will not the
weakness of human belief admit? After the death of this fourth sun, the world was twenty-five years in perpetual
darkness: in the fifteenth of which a man and a woman were created, who restored the human race: ten years after, upon
a certain day, the sun appeared newly created, and since the account of their year takes beginning from that day: the
third day after its creation the ancient gods died, and the new ones were since born daily. After what manner they
think this last sun shall perish, my author knows not; but their number of this fourth change agrees with the great
conjunction of stars which eight hundred and odd years ago, as astrologers suppose, produced great alterations and
novelties in the world.

As to pomp and magnificence, upon the account of which I engaged in this discourse, neither Greece, Rome, nor Egypt,
whether for utility, difficulty, or state, can compare any of their works with the highway to be seen in Peru, made by
the kings of the country, from the city of Quito to that of Cusco (three hundred leagues), straight, even,
five-and-twenty paces wide, paved, and provided on both sides with high and beautiful walls; and close by them, and all
along on the inside, two perennial streams, bordered with beautiful plants, which they call moly. In this work, where
they met with rocks and mountains, they cut them through, and made them even, and filled up pits and valleys with lime
and stone to make them level. At the end of every day’s journey are beautiful palaces, furnished with provisions,
vestments, and arms, as well for travellers as for the armies that are to pass that way. In the estimate of this work I
have reckoned the difficulty which is especially considerable in that place; they did not build with any stones less
than ten feet square, and had no other conveniency of carriage but by drawing their load themselves by force of arm,
and knew not so much as the art of scaffolding, nor any other way of standing to their work, but by throwing up earth
against the building as it rose higher, taking it away again when they had done.

Let us here return to our coaches. Instead of these, and of all other sorts of carriages, they caused themselves to
be carried upon men’s shoulders. This last king of Peru, the day that he was taken, was thus carried betwixt two upon
staves of gold, and set in a chair of gold in the middle of his army. As many of these sedan-men as were killed to make
him fall (for they would take him alive), so many others (and they contended for it) took the place of those who were
slain, so that they could never beat him down, what slaughter soever they made of these people, till a horseman,
seizing upon him, brought him to the ground.

6 Cytheris, the Roman courtezan. — Plutarch’s Life of Antony, c. 3.
This, was the same person who is introduced by Gallus under the name of Lycoris. Gallus doubtless knew her
personally.

7 “That whoever will have a good crop must sow with his hand, and
not pour out of the sack.”— Plutarch, Apothegms, Whether the Ancients were more excellent in Arms than in Learning.

8 “By how much more you use it to many, by so much less will you be
in a capacity to use it to many more. And what greater folly can there be than to order it so that what you would
willingly do, you cannot do longer.”— Cicero, De Offic., ii. 15.

9 “The transferring of money from the right owners to strangers
ought not to have the title of liberality.” — Cicero, De Offic., i. 14.

10 “A belt glittering with jewels, and a portico overlaid with
gold.” — Calpurnius, Eclog., vii. 47. A baltheus was a shoulder-belt or baldric.

11 “Let him go out, he said, if he has any sense of shame, and
rise from the equestrian cushion, whose estate does not satisfy the law.” — Juvenal, iii. 153. The Equites were
required to possess a fortune of 400 sestertia, and they sat on the first fourteen rows behind the orchestra.

13 [“How often have we seen the stage of the theatre descend and
part asunder, and from a chasm in the earth wild beasts emerge, and then presently give birth to a grove of gilded
trees, that put forth blossoms of enamelled flowers. Nor yet of sylvan marvels alone had we sight: I saw sea-calves
fight with bears, and a deformed sort of cattle, we might call sea-horses.”— Calpurnius, Eclog., vii. 64.]

14 “The curtains, though the sun should scorch the spectators,
are drawn in, when Hermogenes appears.”-Martial, xii. 29, 15.

16 Many brave men lived before Agamemnon, but all are pressed by
the long night unmourned and unknown.”— Horace, Od., iv. 9, 25.

17 [“Why before the Theban war and the destruction of Troy, have
not other poets sung other events?”— Lucretius, v. 327. Montaigne here diverts himself m giving Lucretius’ words a
construction directly contrary to what they bear in the poem. Lucretius puts the question, Why if the earth had existed
from all eternity, there had not been poets, before the Theban war, to sing men’s exploits. — Coste.]

18 [“Could we see on all parts the unlimited magnitude of regions
and of times, upon which the mind being intent, could wander so far and wide, that no limit is to be seen, in which it
can bound its eye, we should, in that infinite immensity, discover an infinite force of innumerable atoms.” Here also
Montaigne puts a sense quite different from what the words bear in the original; but the application he makes of them
is so happy that one would declare they were actually put together only to express his own sentiments. “Et temporum” is
an addition by Montaigne. — Coste.]

19 “Our age is feeble, and the earth less fertile.” — Lucretius,
ii. 1151.

20 “But, as I am of opinion, the whole of the world is of recent
origin, nor had its commencement in remote times; wherefore it is that some arts are still being refined, and some just
on the increase; at present many additions are being made to shipping.” — Lucretius, v. 331.